


The Illusion

by weaving_a_tale



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Gen, Road Trips, Slow-Burn fic, spoilers for Infinity War, unwanted companions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-02 20:06:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14552544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weaving_a_tale/pseuds/weaving_a_tale
Summary: !!!Spoilers for Infinity War!!!Because the greatest trick should never be pulled off just once.





	1. The Trick

You didn't go up against Thanos without at **least** fifteen back up plans and another five for good measure just in case.

The first five plans had evaporated as soon as Thanos began his rampage. The ship rumbling under their feet, any thought of an escape bordering on impossible with each Asgardian wail.

The next five dissipated as soon as Thor and Loki came to the main hold. The remnants of Asgard, necks twisted to impossible angles. Blood already beginning to stain their clothes. The chance to negotiate wiped clean off the table.

Further proved by the callousness with which one of Thanos' lackeys picked up Thor, the sheer mass of the creature giving more than enough force to the movement of tossing him back down. Another shudder went through the ship at the impact, Thor barely beginning to move before the creature's fist came down.

Thor was able to roll away at the last moment, the creature letting out a frustrated yell.

"That, is enough," one of the lackeys declared calmly, his violet hand raised as beady black eyes stared down Loki. " _He_ isn't the one we have been seeking."

"I'm flattered," Loki replied with a smirk, his heart hammering in his chest.

He'd known Thanos would come, eventually. His death sentence written as soon as he had been found by Thanos' lackeys floating through endless space.

He had just anticipated it would take longer than this.

That left plans 15 to 20 still intact, though quite a few were on tentative ground, and would hinge entirely on Thanos wanting to keep the Frost Giant alive.

Which Loki could **not** be certain of.

 

He felt before he saw the imposing figure. The ship rattling as the Titan stepped aboard, barely acknowledging the slaughter.

Least it was _something_ Thanos did that Loki could easily anticipate. Least Loki had _that_ amount of knowledge about him, as uncomfortable as it was.

This wasn't like the last time. Where Loki could manipulate, and bargain, and make promises he had no intention of keeping for the sake of survival.

Fool Thanos once, you're living on borrowed time.

Fool Thanos twice, you'd be quite lucky.

There would never be an opportunity to fool him three times.

Plan 15 it was then. A distraction for the main event. The words already passing from his lips before he stepped back, the mass of green launching towards Thanos.

At most, he might have a few minutes.

He intended to use them wisely.

 

* * *

 

There were books you were not supposed to read as a child. As a child, you should never know about the chaos of the universe, how small a speck you really are in the grand scheme of things.

Then again, Asgardian royalty could never be expected to have a _normal_ childhood. Knowing your place from the moment you could comprehend words. Groomed for a throne as soon as you could walk. Practice sessions with dummies and guards (sometimes one and the same thing) that worshipped the elder brother while leaving the younger to fend for himself.

The distinct possibility that you could have the throne if your blond-haired cherub of a brother ever...disappeared.

That was something a child should never have to consider about their kin.

Loki sometimes wondered if he was the **only** one to have that impression. The rest of the court seemed damn certain who would eventually take the throne, despite how often Thor risked his life or his reputation for the thrill of it all. Usually leaving Loki to pick up the pieces.

It had begun because Thor wanted to go to Jotunheim, **well** before his coronation. Someone as foolish as Thor had put the notion into his head that he was cunning enough, more importantly, **strong** enough at such a young age to hunt in Jotunheim a...well. It didn't really matter now.

Loki knew it would be a death sentence as soon as his brother had proclaimed it.

So he'd snuck off from training (and like always, no one had noticed), and ventured to the grand Library of Asgard.

It was said to hold the secrets of the universe, some of its texts pre-dating even the Asgardian people.

Loki had not been interested in that when he came.

His focus, was on a book of enchantments.

More importantly, an enchantment that could... _convince_ his brother not to pursue the hunt.

Thor was stubborn, and awful when he wanted something. And frankly, Loki wanted to stay as far away from Jotunheim as possible.

It wasn't like you would ever meet a sympathetic Frost Giant, especially if they thought you were intruding on their land.

And somehow Loki knew that Thor would not take that into consideration, even _if_ Loki had mentioned it.

So perhaps he rationalized it a little. Fine, a _lot._

The book of enchantments was simple enough to retrieve, so many Asgardians passing though the library doors that that the bookkeeper barely looked up from his ledger at Loki's entrance.

Nor did the bookkeeper look up at the oomph that passed the young boy's lips as he stumbled into the shelf behind him with the book. The books behind him heavy enough to keep the shelf in place, only rattling slightly at the prince's movement.

It was easy enough to find. Despite it being an elixir rather than a spell, it didn't seem too complex, the only real challenge being how Loki would be able to slip the potion into Thor's drink.

The books pages fluttered almost imperceptibly before the book shuddered, the boy leaping back as he dropped the book with a heavy thud.

This finally made the bookkeeper glance up, but only for a moment. His bleary eyes already going back to the ledger as Loki knelt down.

The book was open to a new page, the borders around it the oddest tint of inky blackness, that appeared to shift and move on its own.

It was a complex spell, half of it in a language that Loki didn't understand. A low hum in his ears, almost sounding like words. Beckoning him to read closer.

His hand already reaching for the page, fingertips pressed against the borders as he leaned in.

The hum turning into a wail, tearing through him. And yet his fingertips remained, almost as if the page had locked them into place.

There was sudden silence, the sounds of books being pulled from the shelves and lowered voices cut off so sharply that his head jerked up from the page.

The people continued to move, but their mouths gave no sound.

_**"I am sorry."** _

The voice was smooth, as quiet as a gentle turn of a page. The sound practically deafening in the silence.

Something sharp ripping through his frame before all he saw was blackness.

 

The story went that he had collapsed from exhaustion, simply caused by the brutal pace of his training. That there was nothing that the King and Queen needed to concern themselves with. That all the princeling needed was rest and then he could return.

Frigga had lingered, her touch warm against his forehead as she stroked back his hair. She had reassured him that he would be brought some books to keep him entertained, her smile gentle as she gave his hand a small squeeze.

Odin had not said much, but then again, Loki had not expected him to.

Thor had made promises that he would come to Loki's chambers everyday to tell him of training. Once he returned from his hunt on Jotunheim, of course.

Frigga giving Loki a reassuring smile that said, "He's not going anywhere".

It was not until they had left that he noticed the book at the foot of his bed, that he was quite certain was not there before.

The book hummed under his fingers as he clasped it, though he did not dare to open it again.

There was a faint pulsing in his temple, before a thought seemed to suddenly appear in his mind, the hum from before returning to his ears.

"Death is a luxury you cannot afford," the thought almost spoke. "You must learn survival."

That thought had lingered ever since.

 

* * *

 

 

Five minutes. Ticking down with every moment he stood here, the sounds of the fight between the Hulk and Thanos reaching his chambers.

All he really needed was two.

 

_The_ _enchantment_ _had been used so often_ _that_ _he no_ _longer_ _needed to read_ _it_ _. The words_ _becoming_ _clearer_ _with_ _age,_ _though_ _never_ _fully_ _discernable_ _._

_Not until the_ _Dark_ _Elves invaded, when_ _the_ _words_ _came to_ _mind_ _so_ _readily_ _he half_ _expected_ _the_ _book_ _was_ _speaking_ _to him._

_The enchantment_ _already_ _on his_ _lips_ _,_ _looking_ _up_ _to_ _see_ _a_ _mirror_ _image staring_ _back_ _._ _Each_ _inhale_ _and_ _exhale, perfectly mirrored._

_He risked a_ _touch_ _, recoiling when the image did the same. Its_ _touch_ _hollow_ _and_ _yet_ _solid_ _at_ _the_ _same_ _time_ _._

_Dissipating_ _as soon as Loki heard footsteps, an_ _Asgardian_ _guard_ _appearing_ _at his_ _cell_ _with a meal._

 

_There_ _had_ _been_ _too_ _much_ _time_ _to_ _practice_ _the_ _enchantment_ _,_ _long_ _hours_ _spent_ _crafting_ _the illusion as he sat in his cell._

_By the_ _time_ _they_ _had gone_ _to_ _the_ _Elven_ _homeworld, the_ _illusion_ _was as close to Loki as it_ _would_ _ever_ _become._

_The_ _chaos_ _giving_ _him_ _time to_ _slip_ _away_ _, his arm making_ _the_ _motion_ _as_ _below_ _his_ _image_ _slaughtered._

_Wincing_ _at_ _the_ _dull pain that_ _ripped_ _through_ _his_ _chest_ _, looking_ _down_ _to_ _see_ _his_ _image_ _impaled._

_Nothing_ _compared_ _to_ _the_ _ache at_ _Thor's_ _reaction_ _, though it was not_ _enough_ _to_ _make_ _the_ _Frost_ _Giant_ _linger._

_Sending_ _himself_ _back_ _to_ _Asgard_ _with_ _a flick of his_ _wrist_ _, his_ _plan_ _already_ _in_ _motion_ _._

 

The mirror image stared back at him, calculating eyes meeting his own.

"Hello old friend," he murmured, its mouth moving in sync with his.

 

He  knew what this  would do to his  brother .  What this  could ruin,  what precisely he was  risking .

There was a  distinct possibility none of this  could work.  That Thanos  would see clear  through it.  That Thor could be  punished .

His heart  hammering in  his chest as he guided  his mirror  towards the chaos.

Taking a  deep breath as twisted his wrist,  halting the mirror image's movements.

Conjuring a dagger, one  appearing in  the mirror's hand.Another movement causing it  to disappear from  both their hands.

" I'm sorry brother ,"  he murmured as  he ventured further into what remained of  the ship.

Two  minutes now.

"I promise..." he  began ,  before he  stopped himself.  There was no point to it. His  silvertongue could not  smooth this over.

Death in  the eyes of his  brother.  What Thor  would see  now, and  what he  would think if he ever found  out the truth. 

 

He found a secure chamber  that was  somehow untouched,  reaching for  the mechanism before he stopped.

His  hesitation was  enough to feel the  harsh shudder  that rattled through the  ship .

He closed his eyes. Ignoring  the sharp ache in his chest and stinging behind his eyes as he twisted his wrist  again.

Fingers searching the wall before  pressing down on  the mechanism to  close the door.

When he  opened them, he saw  the chaos  once more.

When he reached  out , he felt cool  metal under his  fingertips.

Odin  had been right after all.

His  birthright ** was ** to die. 

 

Strange, how little it hurt.

The grip on his throat enough for slight discomfort, though he ensured to play his role.

Feeling the blood trickle down his chin, the vision of his mirror image fading until he was returned to the secure chamber.

Setting his mouth in a thin line as he exited, navigating himself to the pods of the ship.

The ache in his chest returning when he saw that only one had been used.

He straightened his frame, his shoulders set as he opened the pod.

Clamouring inside before he closed it behind him.

Pressing down on the button to release the pod as another violent shudder went through the ship.

Flung out into the cosmos, the sheer force violently pinwheeling him despite his tight grip on the controls.

By the time he had righted himself, there was nothing to look back on. Surrounding him, an inky blackness littered with flecks of light.

His mouth remained in a thin line as he turned on the navigation system.

Setting course for the first destination that was available, in a language he did not understand.

He would figure it out once he landed. He was good on his feet, he had thrived on Sakar after all.

Besides...any planet, no matter how desolete, was better than remaining here.

His fingers turned a dial on the dashboard, the name coming into sharper focus.

He pressed down on the dial with the palm of his hand, the mechanism locking with a small click.

His frame pressed into his seat as the pod launched itself towards its destination.


	2. Isolation Shattered

The isolation had not spared them.

The one place where the world was not supposed to touch them, if only for a few days. Where Iris’ father had stood in that small kitchen, where her mother had sat in her lounge chair. Where she had only realized their disappearance at their dog’s desperate sounds.

His nose frantically going into the piles that remained, as if he could nudge them back into existence. Claws skittering against the wooden floors of the cottage as he searched and searched for people that were no longer there.

It had been her friends back home that told her, sending her article after article. Asking her if her family was alright. Her phone continuing to buzz as she could only stare at the remnants of her small family.

She had not thought of the consequences when she yanked open the door with a sharp rattle, the hand cupped over her mouth doing little to mask the shuddering wails. So in focus, pain ripping through her chest, and yet so numb as she watched Tass run into the woods that surrounded the property.

Barely able to call out his name, the sound that escaped something more like a strangled cry.

She had barely made it off the deck that surrounded the cottage before she crumpled. Knees tucked to her chest, screaming and wailing, as though the sheer despondence of the sound make the universe take pity on her and bring them back.

It may have been easier, if there had been anyone else.

Then again, who knew if a sibling would have been spared.

She knew she had to find him, or she would truly have no one.

But Tass had always been a stubborn animal anyways, so set on his own interests that it sometimes took at least five calls of his name for him to even _glance_ at you. Who knew if he would even return if she tried, especially now.

There was a high whine that tore through the persistent birdcalls, bloodshot eyes looking up at the sky and lingering at the sight.

It looked almost like a fighter jet, careening and tilting as it tore through the serene blue. Dipping under the treeline as it headed in the direction of the lake.

The sound growing deafening before the ground rumbled under her feet.

Something sharp ripping through her again, her frame hunched over as she tried not to think of the unfortunate soul that might have been inside. If they had even been spared from the disintegration, now dead if they had gone into the rockface that bordered the edge of the lake.

It was treacherous enough trying to climb up it, a rather impulsive decision from her childhood.

She had no clue how a plane would fare slamming into it.

That wasn’t true. She knew. But to acknowledge it….

There was a familiar shot of amber, black and tan in the treeline before the animal shot out. Skidding in front of her, nose desperately nudging her arms with a low whine. Whining until she wrapped her arms around his neck, her forehead resting against Tass’ fur. His head yanking back with such force that she skidded against the dirt, a yell almost escaping her lips before it faded.

Her general frustration with her beloved animal had no place now. If they were to survive this, they needed each other.

She arose on shaky legs, barely upright before Tass ran off again, this time in the direction of her dock. Towards what was likely the wreckage of the plane.

Oh, _you fucking piece of shit._

She scrambled after him, not caring how desperate her cries sounded as she tried to call him back. Rounding the corner, slipping a little on the stone steps as she clamoured down to follow her dumbass animal.

Scanning the surrounding trees and greenery for any sign.

Her heart plunging into her stomach as she saw his mass bolting down the steps towards their….her dock. It was **all** hers now.

Converse smacking against the wood as she ran down, whacking back overgrown branches, the steps tremoring at her movements as she kept going further and further down towards the wooden structure.

She had nearly reached the base when she saw the plane bobbing in the water. Though it…hardly looked like one, upon closer inspection. It was too smooth, the front window blending into the metal, numerous streaks of blue light flickering and fading that extended from the front window to the wings.

It was the figure that made her pause, her grip tight on the railing.

She nearly thought she saw a blue hand emerging from the lake, but when she blinked it was the normal colour of flesh. The hand gripping tightly onto the dock, the figure pulling themselves from the water with a grunt that echoed around the lake.

Perhaps if there had been more time, she would have noticed more. The regality of the figure’s clothes, despite the significant rips and tears. The long black hair, slicked back by water. The…familiarity of the figure before her.

But there had not been time.

For there was no hesitation on Tass’ part, launching before she could even open her mouth. Teeth sinking into the figure’s arm with a snarl, gripping tightly as he dragged the figure onto the dock.

Launching for their throat as she bolted down the wooden steps, screaming for the dog to stop.

The persistent bugger continuing his attack, teeth snapping as he came close to the figure’s throat.

“Get this mongrel off me!” the figure snarled, blood dripping down his arm as he desperately whacked at the animal. His movements doing little to prevent himself from further harm, his head turning to look at her.

Familiar eyes stared back at her, his teeth gritted as Tass continued to snarl and lash out.

Emerald eyes alight with a certain recognition, his eyes slipping closed as he let out a long sigh.

“Of _course_ ,” he muttered. The man she had watched tear New York apart reaching for his boot before he faltered. Head smacking against the dock as he gritted his teeth.

She couldn’t move, desperately trying to will herself to do so, and yet her legs were lead.

Her stomach plummeting as Loki jabbed his elbow into the animal’s side, the dog letting out a sharp cry before Loki practically tossed him off.

The dog hit the water with a thunk, screaming as he began to sink under the waves. The dog stubborn enough that he had never learned how to swim, and she prayed to whatever might have existed up there that _he would become a fast learner._

Yet the dog continued to sink, and before she could process what she was doing, she was tossing off her shoes.

Pushing down her terror as she jumped into the water, trying to fight down her instincts to flail as she gripped the edge of the dock. Reaching out towards Tass, fingers outstretched as she called out.

The dog whimpered as he bobbed back up, able to float close enough that she could grip his collar. Her fingers slipping against the wet metal before she gripped onto his fur, ignoring his cry as she brought him close to her.

Doing her best to shove the dog back onto the dock, her frame submerged at his sheer weight. His back legs kicking into her chest, trying not to inhale as she gave him a final shove.

She felt the water enter her lungs, stabbing them as Tass’ paws disappeared.

Closing her eyes and forcing herself to go slack, the air hitting her sharply as she bobbed out of the water. Her eyes stinging as she watched Tass launch himself again at Loki, her frame wracked with coughs as she gripped onto the wood of the dock.

She had been able to pull herself up partway, her elbows against the wood as Loki tore up the steps, Tass close on his heels.

Fighting back the exhaustion that threatened to consume her, she tugged herself up with a groan, landing onto the wood with a wet slap. Turning her frame to the side, coughs tearing through her until she felt the water slip out of her mouth.

She was able to pull herself up into a sitting position, still coughing as she risked a glance up.

Loki had rounded the corner, Tass still following with a series of barks and snarls.

She allowed herself a small smile as she used the railing of the dock to pull herself to her feet.

Now all she needed to do was get herself back _up_ the massive flight of stairs back to her cottage.

**_Fan-fucking-tastic._ **

 

* * *

 

 

The mongrel was still on his heels as he yanked open the door, closing it with a firm bang before he closed the wooden door that came after it. Clicking the locks into place, boots leaving wet imprints on the wooden floors as he stumbled back.

Plan. He needed a plan. Preferably one that would dispose of that infernal animal and get him out of this Midgardian shack.

The animal continued to claw at the door, making a racket as Loki glanced at his surroundings.

Most of it was Midgardian technology, hardly useful for the present situation. Not unless he wanted to use the objects for blunt force in order work his way out of here. That was more of his brother’s department.

He faltered at the thought, his eyes going to the serene blue sky.

The snarling barks of the animal outside brought him back to his present situation, though the sharp pain from that mongrel’s bite was more than enough to ensure his thoughts did not wander.

The knife block beckoned him, his teeth gritted as he pulled out a few of the larger blades. He tested the weight of each of them, satisfied as he slipped them into his boots and into the inner lining of his tattered jacket.

He was testing the smaller knives when he heard a muffled thud.

By the time he had turned to look out the kitchen windows, a red vehicle was speeding down the hill that the shack was perched upon. The sounds of the mongrel muffled before they disappeared entirely.

Least the Midgardian had been clever enough not to remain here. Not that Loki thought she would make it further than the highway, considering the amount of mangled metal on the road. He could at least…well, respect was too strong a word. Appreciate, perhaps?

_Appreciate_ her attempt.

 

* * *

 

Iris had no idea how long he would remain at her cottage. Hell, she would have let him _have_ it, had it not been for a few glaring facts.

She had: No food. No money. No phone.

And now, a massive German Shepherd in the backseat of her dad’s…hers. Sole inheritor of all property of the MacLean estate.

Which might have been useful, if she was able to access any of it.

So, there she sat in her car, on the edge of the road by the sign that proudly proclaimed **Westport**. Biding her time, unable to even check the clock for fear it would cause her car battery to drain.

Least there were still some water bottles in the car for the dog and herself, though it wouldn’t be enough to get them past a day or so, even if they rationed it properly.

There was always the option of theft. The last option, in her opinion, but an option nonetheless.

She didn’t even know why it had been the first option to pop into her head. She had to be reasonable. Loki, the man who had singlehandedly torn New York apart, would _quite likely_ not want to linger near the scene of the crash. Not if he wanted to remain undetected.

Though the isolation of her cottage, and the fact there were no police still alive in Westport when she had checked, certainly gave him an advantage in that regard.

She rested her head against the back of her seat, closing her eyes before she rubbed them with the pads of her fingertips. Perhaps it would make the heaviness a little lighter, though it would be no help for the weight present in the rest of her frame.

Her thoughts wandered, of course. There’s nothing else to do really when you’re waiting on the side of the road for a genocidal maniac to leave your family’s property.

Her family had been spared by sheer location. Here, ironically enough, when New York was decimated. They would have just as likely been safe back home near Toronto, but Iris had been grateful for the extra distance when she had found out.

There had been talk for a few months. If Canada would be the next on the list, Toronto far enough that it might never be touched, and close enough that it could receive collateral damage.

Her parents had accepted it like they did most things, with the viewpoint that there was no point worrying about things that had not occurred yet.

Iris wished that trait had been passed on to her. Hell, even tranquil moments were filled with concern of death, of illness, or anything else her mind could conjure up in its idle moments.

Yet she had been the one to survive, whatever the hell this was. This odd plague that had snatched away everything she had ever known. That she couldn’t help but think the man likely rummaging around in her cupboards was responsible for in some part.

It was a logical conclusion. He had been involved in the first attack. It made sense he had a part in this too. He was likely the one that had aided in her parents turning to ash.

She had expected anger at the thought, some form of emotion. But all she felt was a certain numbness, despite how tightly she gripped the wheel in that moment to feel _something._

Her grip slackened, tears beginning to fall down her cheeks again. Even that had a certain lack of feeling to it, no sound escaping her lips as she reached back for Tass.

He nosed her palm, placing his head under her hand. For the first time she could remember, actually be obedient and quiet.

 It was the last conscious thought she had before her exhaustion decided to catch up with her, slipping down in the seat as she rested her head against the window.

Her hand falling down to her side as Tass rested his head against his legs, his soft brown eyes continuing to watch their surroundings.

Letting out a small grumble at the odd taste that lingered in his mouth.


End file.
